


Pitiful

by mooglemade



Category: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Drabble, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romantic Angst, Sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:35:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29663241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mooglemade/pseuds/mooglemade
Summary: After more than seven long years since Genesis abandoned his old life - and an old lover during the events of Crisis Core, Roche struggles to come to terms with the authenticity of his relationship with him. This drabble is based off my own headcanons and depictions of Roche and Genesis respectively, told from Roche's POV.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Pitiful

"You've latched onto that letter all of these years," he says to me.

I wish I didn't.

"Yes," I say.

"And the ring."

I wish I didn't.

"Yes," I say once more. I find the ring in my pocket and squeeze it like a lifeline. Will it save me from drowning in the flurry of emotions I feel right now?

"You said you couldn't stand the sight of me when I first found you again," says Genesis. There's a hint of a smile on his lips and it makes my stomach churn. And it makes me blush, because I am soft for him. I am weak for him. Always.

I take the letter and I tear it to pieces and let them take wing in the air, but the words are still engraved in my very soul:

_Of course... I'll come back to you. Even if you don't promise to wait. I'll return knowing you'll be here._

I remember reading them years ago. The very last line of the Loveless play. I became a sinking ship. I couldn't recollect the pieces of me even if I tried.

"I still can't," I say. I make it sound so simple but it's not.

"Still, I know you. Even if you tear it to pieces," he remarks.

"You don't know anything about me, Genesis," I snap, as if it could shield me from being seen. I don't want him to. That's how he burrowed in deep to begin with. 

"I was the only one who did," he adds.

I want to fabricate a lie. I want to say: _Zack and Kunsel and Aerith knew me just as much._ But the truth is they saw glimpses. I've lost count as to how many times I've revealed an ugly facet of myself to Genesis and he still stayed. Held. Loved, maybe. 

"I will never be weak again. I will never let myself drift the way I did with you. You're a pretty crimson-colored blight. You're a beast.You saw something weak and decided to tear it to pieces," I say, finding the vitriol of a past self.

"A blight? Beast, perhaps," he responds calmly, his footsteps drawing closer."Do you think that's what it was?"

A pause. I'm digging through my soul. I find that tiny bleeding little bird again and I respond.

"I don't think you ever loved me. What you felt for me was naught but pity."

And there it is. Every single insecurity, every single moment of doubt, every single little fear given voice. I always expected Genesis to leave. The people who love you most always do.

And then a long silence drifts. Neither he nor I say anything.

"I did pity you. You were small and weak and scared of everything. You didn't belong in that world," he finally says.

If he was trying to be funny, it only arouses rage within me and my fists clench tightly. I turn, but it's to glare daggers at him. It's to raise a fist.

"You're a piece of shit," I growl, but his next words stop me before I can swing.

"I loved that about you," he says, and I pause. "I don't know why. Even when I taught you strength and confidence you never lost that purity. No thirst for glory. No thirst for heroism. Only a reason to exist in a world that deprived you of your dreams. Your will was admirable. Your unquenchable thirst for beauty bewitched me amidst the monotony of war and death."

"I'm glad my tragedy brought you such amusement," I spit bitterly, looking away from him. No matter how much I latch onto this venom, my cheeks... they're warm.

" 'Twas not amusement. I was mesmerized. I was...in love. I had never been in love before, but I..."

"Oh, spare me. Isn't it funny? The walking picture of mediocrity comes along and the beautiful First Class Genesis Rhapsodos falls head over heels!?" I turn to face him again, cheeks hot, brows furrowed, voice breaking as I yell into the night air, fresh tears welling up in my eyes. And I'm shoving him now in blind rage and woe. "I could barely talk to you. I could barely look at you, so why? Why won't you say it? **Say it**! Say that you pitied me! Say that was all it was. Say all of it was a means to an end to make you feel better about yourself! Say that's why you left me behind like him*! Say that's why I couldn't follow. Say it!"

I'm crying into his chest. I haven't done that in such a long time... neither have I felt the gentle embrace of his arms around me and his fingers through my hair. I'm six feet under again. Six feet under everything that he was. Is. For a moment I wonder to myself if this kind of death was worth it. But that's just the thing: it's always been through him that I have been reborn, phoenix-like - his fire reducing parts of me to ash just to remake them all over again. 

I hate this.

I hate that it feels like instinct or nature itself to be broken by him and be put back together again. 

"But I can't say it," Genesis says. "Neither can I explain the reasons why. Just that you were beautiful. Just that you set me ablaze. How could I ever stop loving you?"

And he cups my cheeks and it's familiar. He kisses my lips and it's familiar. I'm eighteen again and I don't know a single thing about love. The night is cool and there is soft music in the air. He brushes my hair back and kisses me. I don't know a single thing about love. 

But I know plenty about hunger. Plenty about latching onto the transient.

There are many people in my life I have lost that I will never get back. I kept hoping that one day, someone would knock on my door and I'd be greeted with Zack's smile. Or Angeal's. Or Sephiroth's . Some sort of semblance of those halcyon days that made me feel free. But I kept seeing Genesis. Everywhere I went. Silently smiling. In a crowd. On the newspaper. On the billboards. In my reflection. And now he stands before me- breathing, real. No longer an illusion.

I bury my face in his neck and close my eyes.

"Even now I'm still so pitiful," I quietly say.

"Why do you say that?" Genesis inquires, still holding me close. His breath tickles my ear.

"Because you could leave again. And I'd still keep waiting for you."

He kisses my temple, and pulls away, if not so that he can look me in the eye. His eyes are wet, too. I don't think I've ever seen Genesis cry, but he smiles through it and tenderly cups my cheeks again. After all, _I've_ always been the crybaby.

"I've always loved that about you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> * "him"-Roche is referring to his deadbeat father here.


End file.
